Kundalini Splendor

To that Poet of Both Realms

Somehow it did not occur to me
that you would come with a body.
Legs, hips, mouth and all the rest.
That you would trace that form
in a sheen of words,
tell of postures, motions,
the sounds that lovers make.

That you would brush your beloved’s eyes
with kisses, leaving prints for the private
detectives of the soul to discover and
display as evidence.

That you would make altars
in her hidden places,
worship there.

That you would bring her gifts
of fire and water,
feed her the stuff of loam,
its plenitude,
dazzle her with seeds of the sun.

You remind me of how it is to be enfleshed,
to go about in a temple made of light
and soft skin.

You whisper to your beloved,
who is sometimes palpable. like you,
sometimes is that other, invisible She
that we know,
that you have told us of.

Dorothy Walters
June 18, 2006